


Flower Shop

by ChaoticDepths



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Complete, Heavy Angst, I.M., K-Pop - Freeform, KiHo are best friends, Kihyun - Freeform, M/M, Minor Chae Hyungwon/Shin Hoseok | Wonho, Oneshot, changki, hanahaki, it's changki's wedding dbhwbdkwh, jooheon - Freeform, kiho, minhyuk - Freeform, monsta x - Freeform, my poor wonho heart, shownu - Freeform, wonho - Freeform, wonho is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 00:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17254580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticDepths/pseuds/ChaoticDepths
Summary: Hoseok has a flower shop of wistful dreams and wishes. And he's content to give them away as long as his special flowers reach the hands of the person who makes them bloom.KiHo!Angst, proceed at your own caution





	Flower Shop

Raising the tall flute to his lips, Hoseok takes a delicate sip.

The bubbling, golden champagne fizzes in his mouth, deliciously ice cold. It leaves a pleasant buzz on his tongue before he swallows it down, into the brunt of his body heat. He follows the feeling of the icy streak down his eosophagus until it disappears into the heat of his stomach.

He takes another sip, staring out unseeingly into the night as he refocuses on another cold shot seeping down his throat, down the canal that he's pretty sure lies so close to his lung cavity, close enough that the pleasant coldness brushes those nerve endings, spiking a shortlived burst of semi numbness through the expanse of his lungs.

He likes it. He likes the cold. He likes the numbness.

He likes how he can't feel his fingers holding the icy flute of champagne; he likes how the drink itself is so icy he can barely taste it but feel it instead with each sip and swallow. He likes standing out here in the balcony, unprotected by the cool, nightly breezes that have the tip of his nose numb and aching and find their way through the fancy dark blue suit he wears to sting at his body. His muscles are aching in the involuntary stiffness they're held in, his body shuddering unevenly from the freezing atmosphere. His feet too have gone numb and aching, given how long he's been out here, his back turned to the warmth and lights inside where loud laughter and chatter await to welcome him.

Hoseok sucks in a long, deep breath of the biting, raw air that smells of winter and snow. Breathes it into his lungs as long as he can. The cold reverbates inside him, and he decides he'll stay here a bit longer. He takes another sip, unseeing eyes lingering until they fall onto the balcony railing. And the numbness he tried to encase himself in cracks ever so slightly as his mind scrambles at something to think about.

He looks at, does not see, the flowers and ribbons twining around the rails in picturesque decoration one would pinpoint to some kind of celebration taking in place inside the stylish black building. And who would know better than Hoseok, the person in charge of all this decor? He looks at the flowers, and even though the night is so dark it would swallow him up, save for the dim yellow lights shining from above, he can see the dark, majestic purple petals streaked with black, perched atop stems the darkest, velvety green. The boquet is set off with a thick satin ribbon and bow of a light, creamy shade that twines along the railing till the ends wrap around the flowers in the middle.

_"You know what to do, hyung. I know you do."_

Hoseok is a horticulturist. That's what everyone insists on calling him, even though he has no degree in botany, or anything faintly close to biology. He prefers to stick to his own story wherein he worked part time at a flowershop, just another university student short of cash and wanting to be more authorative of his life. Besides, he liked flowers okay, and he thought himself lucky to get a nice job with a not-so-bad pay, as long as his employers were nice. It had seemed like the most cliched thing in the world at the time: a flowershop run and owned by a friendly old couple who were to remain satisfied with the life they'd lived to the very end. And as time went on, he realized some cliches are cliches for a reason.

Kihyun had never been skeptical of his choice of part time job, not even when he stuck to it through all their four years of university. After all, they were just students willing to work at anything as long as it offered enough money to manage moving out of the dorms or a fancy date. Everyone was doing the oddest of odd jobs, some of them with the better catch like Kihyun, who was a teacher's assistant and tutor being paid by the hour; some of them like Hoseok, on neither end of the bell curve but in the peaceful in-between; and some like Changkyun, one of the many juniors Kihyun tutored, who pieced together a myriad of odd and part time jobs to earn enough to eat.

Hoseok takes a cold breath, but this time it refuses to numb him, rattling his nerve endings so that inklings of sharp stabs bloom in his chest. Puffing out the breath just as rapidly, he raises the flute to his lips and gulps. The drink is still cold enough to frost over his innards, nipping the ache in the bud.

_For now._

Hoseok was good at his job. He was nice to the customers. He charmed them with smiles and advised frantic first dates with the right flowers. He was very good at arranging complex bouquets, too, and he always had the shop restocked with the most exotic, beautiful flowers within the budget, much to his employers' bemused amazement. The flower shop, in short, slowly but surely gained popularity. Never did he let a flower wither before time, and to every green thumb and enthusiast, he gave the same answer:

_"Just find out what makes a flower thrive."_

And when that was followed with a _"Well, what is that?"_ , he answered the same, too:

_"Love."_

One thing that surprised him, though, was the concept of regulars. He'd believed that type of customers was a luxury for cafes and bars; places where people went to find some sort of comfort, some kind of peace.

Turns out there are two types of people-- those who look for relief and those who relieve. Flower shop regulars are always the latter, and who would know better than Hoseok, who's made the shop and its contents his life's work?

And he also knows that some of those people are empty and broken, that they need love as much as they prefer to be a giver. And that giving is what fixes them for a while, until the cracks reappear and they wind up at his counter once again, to which he smiles gently and hands them the bunch of flowers that's been waiting for a couple hours. Sometimes he sees the hollowness, the pain mirrored in their eyes so clearly it hurts, and they know he does. But it's the kind of personal pain you can't talk about, only sense and understand. 

Why else do people buy flowers, and why else does each kind of flower hold a special message?

Most of the regulars weren't that deep-- the art major who loved sketching portraits (they later hired her to design a new sign), the hopeless romantic who stabbed himself one time too many in the pursuit of single roses or even the elderly old man who hobbled in like clockwork every Sunday for any type of flower, as long as they were white.

_"Hyung, don't laugh..."_

Hoseok did have some special clients, for whom he reserved only the very best. Changkyun, for instance, who came to be Kihyun's star crossed lover and vice versa.

And not that Hoseok was playing the younger dirty, but he wanted only the best for his best friend.

So the first time Changkyun burst into the shop, looking windblown and wide eyed, Hoseok just smiled.

_"Kihyun told me he'd be going out tonight..."_

_"I need help."_

_"You're not the first, not the last."_

_"C'mon, hyung, you know better than me what Kihyun would like."_

_"I do know he has an expensive taste."_

_"I'm willing to work overtime."_

Hoseok saw determination with its sharp edge behind the haze of first time date panic in the boy's eyes, and decided he just might give him a chance.

_"Then this one's on me, kiddo."_

It was more of an unspoken pact, signed the day Hoseok went to the back of the shop and reappeared with a magnificent bouquet deep purple flowers streaked with black, set off with a creamy ribbon, which he handed to a gaping Changkyun with the same charming smile he gave all his customers.

_Make Kihyun happy._

Hoseok realizes he's draining the already none-too-generous flute too fast, and that the cold is seeping away too fast. He can't afford to go back inside. Not now. Not yet.

A gust of Siberian wind blows and he sucks some in, nostrils stinging and eyes watering slightly. But his lungs are nowhere near the four liters they're meant to intake at maximum capacity before they start to crumple in on themselves. His ribs ache, muscles spasming as he smothers a fit of racking coughs, swallowing down the itch and urge with practice that's been perfected over a span of some years.

Years in which the flowers changed, blooming more exquisite, more beautiful. And then there were so many that Hoseok allowed himself to restock the shop with them. Even when the old couple passed on the ownership to him, they didn't ask many questions about how he was managing it all. They seemed to believe what he said about making flowers thrive.

_"Will you do us the honors, hyung?"_

Kihyun was still training to be a teacher by the time Hoseok was officially the manager of now his flower shop. On one of the rare gap days Kihyun had between studying and working, he met up with Hoseok at the cafe they'd been going to ever since their first year of university. From stressing out over assignments to talking of buying an apartment, the place had always been home. Summer rain poured down the window panes as they sipped their hot drinks, and Hoseok can still taste the milky latte he had as fresh as the champagne he's drinking when Kihyun showed him the engagement ring on his finger.

_"..Why am I not surprised?"_

Kihyun had laughed, a rare, bashful smile on his face.

_"Yeah, I know. It's just...I don't know if either of us are ready."_

But Hoseok knew then, and knows now, that Kihyun was, if anything. prepared. Kihyun is a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it. He knows his limits and strengths. He's a practical man, one used to the solidness and accuracy of mathematical formulas given life by physics, rather than the enigmatic tangles of the emotion called love. And Hoseok knew he'd get over that confusion too, because that's what Kihyun is good at doing: removing obstacles from the path of destination.

And judging from where Hoseok's standing today, Kihyun has been successful, like he always is.

The flute sweats in his hand, his palm uncomfortably clammy. The champagne has long lost its fizz as he downs the last drops of it, abruptly erupting in goosebumps. The cold is there but now it feels all wrong as odd parts of his body freeze while others sweat, his skin a patchwork of blotches. His heart is thudding unsteadily as the brunt of memories wash him over, vision distorting with each beat. He pulls in short, shallow breaths but no precaution in the world can stop the stabbing pain from blooming in his abdomen.

_"It has to be you, hyung...after all this time Kihyun always loves your flowers. I want it to be the best day ever for him."_

Hoseok exhales heavily, enduring the ache in his ribs with patience perfected over years.

It's already the best day for him, flowers or not. Because he has you.

Empty flute in hand, he finally turns and stumbles towards the doors. It takes a few tries for his stiff, aching fingers to clutch at the delicate handle and wrench them open, nose stinging again as warmth settles over him. He unsteadily makes his way down the winding staircase, sounds of laughter and talking growing louder as he descends.

How many dreams and fantasies has he tied up into bouquets and given away?

Hoseok reaches the marble floor just as a waiter passes by; in perfect choreography he places his empty flute on the tray perched on his hand and walks on without a second glance, navigating his way through the cliques of guests and dancers. His eyes raise above their heads, darting around as if looking for someone.

How many of those wishes are here, up against the walls, decorating the banisters and arranged in countless vases and tables, all on shameless display?

He sucks in a breath, the warm air agonizing inside his already tormented alveoli. He feels like a fucking tropical forest in there, squeamishly hot and wet and suffocating.

His eyes finally light on the couple who stand arm in arm amidst the guests, eyes bright and sparkling as they happily chat away with another one of their friends, Minhyuk. They lean into each other impulsively; yet as rings glint on their fingers, it's as if they're taking full advantage of the new titles they now hold for the same love.

Changkyun catches his eyes first and eagerly waves, pointing to him and talking to Kihyun at the same time, no doubt telling him there he finally is.

Does anyone even know what his flower shop has become as they mindlessly place in orders?

"Hoseok! Where were you?" Kihyun exclaims when he's within earshot, his eyes shining with drops and lenses wide in an expression Hoseok knows so well it's almost odd in this setting. The same look he gave him studying for finals is the same look he gives him right now, as a married man of three hours.

Hoseok half smiles.

"Bathroom. Think I'm coming down with something."

Kihyun raises an eyebrow, gently breaking away from Changkyun, who starts chatting away with Minhyuk again, deeming Hoseok socially present.

"For two hours? Are you okay?"

Kihyun's his best friend. Hoseok sighs, then immediately smothers a cough.

"I may have had a couple drinks too, y'know?" he manages to smirk at him, watching as he physically relaxes, eyes a little less critical.

"This is supposed to be a happy day, Seok. Not just ours, but..." Kihyun's voice trails off, reaching to place a hand on Hoseok's bicep.

"I mean, ours, you know what I mean? I ...I really can't tell you how much it means to me for you to be here...and have done all you have..." Kihyun purses his lips, and Hoseok's genuinely surprised for a second.

"Hey, hey, Ki, what're you getting at?" he asks, half laughing albeit confused. They've stepped off and away from Changkyun, who continues to mingle cheerfully.

"No, I..." Kihyun chuckles, too, a tad awkward as he tries grasp for reason between the mix of emotions flooding through him. Hoseok waits, like he always does when Kihyun's bogged down like this. Even now, he looks stunning, dark hair swept in a curve over his head, his black suit setting off his creamy skin perfectly and bringing out his dewy, bright eyes. They now meet his again as he finds words.

"I mean, Seok...it's just that you're my...my best friend...we've known each other so long it's crazy...it's...it's just...kinda...surreal...to be standing here at this point, me married, you my best man...and we literally grew up killing slugs on the pavement... it's just--" he breaks off, suddenly blinking unevenly.

"Oh, oh dear, is my conservative brother possibly feeling, oh, I don't know, emotional?" Hoseok bursts out laughing, thumping Kihyun on the back as he furiously dabs at his eyes.

"No! You idiot, shut the fuck up, I--"

"Hey," Hoseok chuckles fondly, "it's okay, Ki."

As he gently tugs his best friend into a hug, the latter allows himself to sniffle a bit into his shoulder. Hoseok soothingly rubs his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

"We've come a long way, I know," he murmurs before thumping him again. "C'mon, Ki, you've got lenses in! Man up on your wedding day, mate," he teases as Kihyun chuckles weakly against him. "I never thought you'd be the type to go all soft like this."

"I'm not all soft, Seokie, I'll be fine in just a minute..."

"Stubborn as ever, are we?" Hoseok shakes his head. "C'mon, why haven't you run off to your precious honeymoon yet? That'll dry up those tears in no time," he adds with a smirk, earning a slap to his arm.

"You bastard," Kihyun says fondly, dabbing at the corners of his eyes one last time. "When are you gonna settle down then, huh? The next wedding I attend better be yours."

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

"Oh, Ki, are we having this conversation again? Besides, you've been married three hours, bro, I wouldn't get so high on my horse about being 'settled down'," Hoseok grins and is jabbed again.

"Aw, c'mon, Seok, you had it going so good with Hyungwon," Kihyun smirks, but he just shakes his head, smiling softly.

"Hyungwon, and all these other...flings...I've had..." he stares off into space as he searches for words, "they don't feel like the real thing, Ki. I've always felt as if I'm trying to distract myself from something bigger...something more true."

"Distract?" Kihyun's eyebrows have shot up as he latches onto the word. "Are you quite possibly in love already, Hoseok? Some unattainable crush?"

Hoseok meets his eyes, picoseconds stretching like taffy into eons, a lifetime of thoughts flashing through his mind, some of them blooming and withering on his tongue in a matter of those picoseconds.

"I couldn't say," he murmurs quietly, the raucous noise surrounding him comparatively peaceful to the white static in his head. "It's more like it doesn't feel right. I want to...I want to feel that click....like you and Kyunnie," he says out loud for the first time, watching Kihyun. Watches his eyes widen and then go bashfully dreamy.

"Click," he hums, as if testing the word out on his tongue, smiling slightly as he does so. "Guess you could say that. But it doesn't do much justice to what it feels like. And...I understand if that's how you feel, Hoseok. If you're waiting for that..then I'd say it'll be worth it."

_It definitely has been._

"Someone's whipped," he raises an eyebrow, grinning as Kihyun's cheeks color, eyes crinkling. "Now please run off to that honeymoon already, Ki, because I really don't feel well enough to hang around any longer and I'm definitely not leaving before sending my best friend off."

"You know what, fuck the system, you're right," Kihyun agrees. "Just for you, though," he adds unnecessarily, and Hoseok smacks him.

"Don't pile your horny fantasies on me, mate. Get out and get 'em, tiger!"

"I already have him," Kihyun says none too quietly as he sashays back towards Changkyun. A second later he comes dashing back, throwing himself on Hoseok in a hug.

"Bye," he says meekly, causing him to snort before crushing him back,

"God, Kihyun, I feel like I'm sending you off to preschool," he laughs. "Didn't know you'd be so afraid of of all the nasty things you two are clearly--"

"Gah! Enough, I don't love you anymore," Kihyun rips away, his eyes crescents. "The one time I'm actually soft, Hoseok, I swear--"

He's cut off with a yelp as Hoseok scoops him up and carries him back to Changkyun, ignoring all the eyes that turn on them.

"Your husband is very eager to get on with the honeymoon," he smirks as Changkyun blinks. He sets down Kihyun. "You can carry him bridal style later, though. No hard feelings."

"Oh my God, Hoseok! On my--fucking--wedding!" Kihyun shrieks, whacking him with a fist. Hoseok shrugs.

"Isn't that what you invited me for?"

"The car's ready, let's get you two going!" Jooheon bursts in out of nowhere, the equivalent of Hoseok as Changkyun's best friend. Like the bachelors they are, all the friends gather to herd the newlyweds out of the hall and all the way to the car, Kihyun ranting about his picture perfect wedding being hijacked and Changkyun shrieking along happily by contrast. The movements charge Hoseok's lungs more than they can afford, but he manages to hold down the coughs that itch his throat with each breath he heaves.

It's only as the car is revving up, headlights bright in the dim night when the roof pulls back and Changkyun waves from his seat.

"Get married, suckers!" he yells, standing long enough to violently throw the bouquet he's holding. Minhyuk shrieks, darting forwards.

All at once, the car moves off, Kihyun and Changkyun waving. Around Hoseok everyone else is laughing and shrieking, the bouquet seemingly moving in slow motion. Hoseok watches his dreams and fantasies streak across the sky, arcing and tumbling gracefully towards the outstretched arms.

It shouldn't hurt as much as it does when everyone misses and the flowers hit the ground.

They are his, after all. He can't be anyone's catch either.

Does anyone realize what else flowers can serve for whenever they enter his shop?

Hoseok has a jagged edge, an edge that yearns to have another half that will fit with him perfectly. And if the one half he had has clicked with someone else so contently, who is he to rip them apart?

After all, all he's wanted is for Kihyun to be happy.

He's willing to let his own jagged side be chafed blunt. It isn't meant to fit in with Kihyun's anyway, not after all that he's witnessed. If he's meant to be they way he is now, he'll take it.

After all, Kihyun's always loved his flowers, delivered at the hand of Changkyun.

That's what keeps Hoseok at bay, after all these years. He now sits in the semi darkness of his flower shop, long returned from the wedding and idly gazing at the silhouettes of the flowers that surround him, perched on shelves, stands and vases.

Kihyun loves them.

He smiles ruefully, ignorant of the tears cascading down his face. It's normal flowers that need love to grow. His flowers /are/ love. A suffocating, insurmountable love that overwhelms him to the point that he doesn't know what to do with it until they come spurting out as flowers, like carbon compressed into diamond.

His flowers grow on pain.

Hoseok breathes in shakily, tears dripping faster, and does nothing to stop the racking coughs that eat at his lungs from the inside, familiar wet clumps inching up his throat. He doubles over, choking on his love.

The flowers don't want to stop, blooming black and purple and red. That's never bothered Hoseok. He's ready to die at their hand anytime. That's who Hoseok is, really. He's someone who settles for anything.

_A flower shop, this illness, a tormented heart..._

...Kihyun being happy.

The only thing he's changed, though, is this flower shop to a shrine.

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hello! What a way to start off 2019, oof >.< this is my second time writing a fic for this forum, here's the request I took:  
> kiho hanahaki disease au angst with an angsty end [plot: Hoseok loves Kihyun but Kihyun and Changkyun love each other and have been dating for so long that Hoseok can’t even confess] Idk i want to cry as a baby.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope whoever requested this likes it! <3


End file.
